| A story of two girls and a car and a search for something to believe in. |
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Holding ItA forehand planted firmly in a palm, a knee rhythmically bobbing up and down as the clock ticked too slowly. Her eye might have twitched when the professor began his oration on the Mississippi River. That massive, mocking, great body of water. Unrestricted, freely flowing water. She darted her eyes away from the images being projected on the screen and chose a spot on the wall for her eyes to linger on. The other knee joined in the incessant dance, a ritual meant to make the struggle easier. The spot on the wall did nothing for her, so she allowed herself another glance at theHolding It
by ~Mikari-Aoineko
PillsMy eyes regrettably flew open and scanned the clock that would inform me that it was 4:30 AM. As I uselessly readjusted my position, I began to wonder why this had become a nightly habit of mine for these past several weeks. Falling asleep should not evoke so much frustration, I decided, and began deeply sympathizing with every insomniac that is tortured by this regularly. There has to be a way to end this. In my half-lidded stupor, the practiced friendly tone of a commercial recited a brand name in my head. I resolved then that I would have to drug myself into submission. Two days later, my schedule was free of classes and, as an addedPills
by ~Mikari-Aoineko
WingsWINGSWings
Flute wanted to keep her wings. She had let them grow further into maturation than most others had. Her peers were reaching the point in their lives in which it was appropriate for wings to be shed, but Flute would not adhere. She wanted to keep her wings. This difference, of course, was noticeable as she strutted the great appendages through the halls of school. Many of the students would tease Flute or snicker when her back was turned. “There’s no point,” they’d say. “It’s not like she can fly with those any
by ~Mikari-Aoineko
Oy VeyOy VeyOy Vey
“David, go say hello to your grandmother,” a woman nudged her ten year-old in the direction of a plump old woman, “But mom, I never understand what she says!” the boy’s protest was ultimately defeated by the insistence of his mother. “David! How have you been bubbala? You haven’t seen your grandmother since Rosh Hashanah. No visit from you at the Home, but ah, I don’t blame you. Who would want to shlep all the way to Syosset? And you are just a boy, but your cousin Shlomo? No excuse
by ~Mikari-Aoineko
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: New York
- Interests: Reading (mostly fantasy), anime, gnomes, musicals, etc.
- Favourite movie: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (and several others)
- Favourite band or musician: Chevelle
- Favourite genre of music: Hard rock
- Favourite artist: CLAMP/Tracy Butler/Craig Thompson/others
- Favourite poet or writer: J.R.R. Tolkien
- Favourite style of art: Anime/Manga style
- MP3 player of choice: My little blue 'pod.
- Wallpaper of choice: Anime or Final Fantasy
- Favourite game: Final Fantasy IX
- Favourite gaming platform: N64
- Favourite cartoon character: Kinomoto Sakura
- Personal Quote: PEEPS.
- Tools of the Trade: Pencils for drawing, pens for writing... sometimes a typewriter as well.
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God Damn wannabe artists.
Dang, yo! Love all your stuff! Especially "Amorours Sky and Ardent Ocean".
Hope your computer is fixed soon so you can put up some new stuff. I really wanna see what you've been working on lately.
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